The Returning Stag
by Gryffindor Coin
Summary: With the help of Hermione, Harry looks into the strange flashes that he has been plagued with for the last years after finding an odd pendent and concerning information in his mother's diary. After being launched into what he now know are memories of his life in Westeros, he must survive being the eldest child of the King and Queen and play the dreaded Game of Thrones.
1. Chapter 1

AN: I don't own anything that is from Harry Potter or Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire.

The Returning Stag

Chapter 1

Harry Potter/ Steffon Baratheon

"Hermione? Hermione, where are you," I call out glancing around the dark room. I mutter a quick lumos and step inside. The light from my wand shines on boxes upon boxes filled with unknown items. Some of the boxes had been knocked over and its contents scattered across the floor.

Of course, she would ask me to meet her in the darkest and messiest place I had been and not show up. Glancing down at my watch, I loer myself to sit on one of the sturdier looking containers. 'I'll give her twenty minutes before I leave,' I think.

The first ten minutes seem to drag on. I knew I should have tried to find a way out of this, but she had basically begged me to meet her here and I would have felt horrible if I hadn't shown up. Besides she is one of the few people that I actually still talk to after quitting my job as an Auror and she had agreed to help me find out more about the odd things that I found in Godric's Hollow a year prior.

Things had been calm for a while after the war, and corruption had been weeded out of the ministry or at least we thought it had. The peace didn't last long, less than two years after the war and the people who had corrupted the government had only been replaced with more people who had their own ambitious agendas without a care for those around them.

A voice comes from the darkness to my right, "Harry?"

"Hermione," I ask, looking the general direction the voice had travelled from, squinting in an attempt to see her. "Why exactly are we here? What is this place?"

"An old storage room," she says with a sigh.

"Okay, but why are we here," I inquire, as I finally catch sight of her and begin to head in her direction, though somewhat off course to avoid having to climb over higher piles of boxes.

"Did you bring everything I told you to," She asks, staring at the piles around us.

"Yeah, I was meaning to ask you about that," I say. "Why do I need everything I own? Especially some of these books, the majority are useless information anyways," I complain, as I dig through the small brown leather messenger bag that she had put an undetectable extension charm on and gifted it to me for my birthday.

"Like this one," I say, holding it up for her to see. " _History and Application of the Printing Press_ , why would I ever need to know this?"

"Everything is useful, Harry. You just have to wait for the right opportunity," she replied giving me a bright smile.

"Yeah, okay," I nod letting the subject drop. "Have you found anything out about the flash things," I ask, reaching into my bag I pull out the small leather bound diary that was my mother's or at least who I had grown up thinking was my mother, I had found it while poking around in their house in Godric's Hollow last year. In the small book she had confessed that they had found me as a babe and planned to raise me as their own. She had wrote of how I was found outside of their home days after the death of their real son and simply told everyone that I was their little Harry.

Folded neatly between the last page and the back cover had been a note wrapped around a gold pendent that has a head of a lion imprinted on it that read:

 _My Dear Steffon,_

 _We may not see one another for some time, I hope you shall keep this with you as a reminder of my love as you study under your Grandfather for these coming months._

 _Your Lady Mother,_

 _Queen Cersei Baratheon_

The more I held the pendent the more flashes that went through my mind. The very first one had been of my mother and Uncle. I had been in the gardens picking flowers with one of the maids that had been told to watch me. I had only been left alone for a short time as Sybil went off with the stable boy again, when a man who I knew was my uncle called for me. It's hard to explain how I knew these people when I can never remember meeting them before the flash… dream… things.

"Little one," I heard Uncle Jaime call.

"Uncle, look," I cried as I ran as fast as my little, three year old legs will carry me. I crashed into his legs at full speed and nearly drop all of the flowers that I had collected with the maid. Uncle regained his balance and puts his hand on my back with a small chuckle. I took a couple of unsteady steps back and I hold up the flowers for him to see. "They're for Mother, since she is hurt," I explained with a smile, excited at the idea of hopefully making mother feel better.

"Your mother isn't hurt little one, she was giving birth to your bother," He informs me as he kneels and resting an elbow on his bent knee, so that we were at the same eye level.

"Oh," I replied as my smile slid from my face. None of this made any sense to me. People always said that women were always happy to have babes, so why had Mother been screaming as if she were in pain. "I guess I don't these then," I told him and drop my shoulders. Disappointed, I toss the small bundle of flowers to the ground which caused Uncle to frown.

"Nonsense," Uncle Jaime said, picking up the flowers with one hand. "We wouldn't want these beautiful flowers and your hard work to go to waste, would we?" After a shake of my head he continues, "Now, let's go see that new brother of yours."

He stood and reached down to lift me in order to place me on his hip. He began to walk through the gardens to the Keep passing roses, lilies and several other flowers that I didn't know the name of yet, but before we reach the door to enter the Keep he turned around and his eyes skimmed the garden before he brought his eyes to me. "Where is the maid that was tasked with watching you," he asked as his eyebrows pulled together causing a crease to appear between them. I had hoped he wouldn't ask that, I didn't want to get her into trouble.

"I can't tell," I whispered as I leaned closer to his ear and glance around. Hopefully he won't ask any more questions. "It's a secret."

"Does she leave you often when she is meant to watch you," He inquired, readjusting me on his hip.

"Can't tell," I say, shaking my head.

"What's my brother's name," I had asked in an attempt to distract him.

"Joffrey. His name is Joffrey," He answered, shaking his head. "Surely you can tell your beloved uncle if a maid is doing her job," he pleaded placing his forehead on mine, green eyes meeting green eyes.

I sighed, "But she gives me a reward if I stay quiet."

"I'll double the prize if you tell me," He bargained as he is maneuvered through the twist and turns that lead to Mother's chambers.

"You won't tell," I asked as he pulled his head away and smiled.

"I promise that I won't tell anyone," He replied as the door to Mother's chambers was opened, so that we could enter.

"I don't know," I replied. "I like her."

"Whom do you like, my Love," Mother asked from her bed. She was sitting up with a thin blanket lying over her legs as she leaned back against countless pillows. She had a small bundle of red blankets in her arms.

"Apparently, your son likes to spend time with a maid who cannot perform her duties, leaving the Crowned Prince of the Seven Kingdoms to care for himself and rewards him if he doesn't tattle on her," Uncle explained as he placed me on the bed. No longer concerned with the topic at hand, I crawled over to Mother to investigate the blankets in her arms.

"Is that him," I asked as I stood up on the bed and holding on to her shoulder to steady myself as I leaned over to get a better look at the blankets.

"Yes, Darling," She smiled as she placed her hand on my back. "This is your brother." Satisfied with the little, pink, wrinkled babe in Mother's arms I sat down and popped back up again after remembering the flowers. I ran across the bed to Uncle and nearly fell when my feet got tangled in the red silk blanket that covers the bed. I held out my hand for the flowers, when I finally reached Uncle.

Once he placed them in my hand, I made my way back to Mother and held them out to her I said, "I picked these for you."

"Thank you," she said with a small smile on her lips and placed the flowers on the other side of her. "Now, won't you sit with Mother for a bit," she asked patting the spot next to her. Agreeing I crawled to the spot and curled into her and relaxing as Uncle sat on the edge of the bed. Her long golden hair fell in loose ringlets down her shoulders and as usual it looked as if not one hair was out of place. "Tell me about this maid that has been leaving you on your own," she commanded in a soft voice as she ran her fingers through my raven hair.

"I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself," I protested, wiggling to place my head on her shoulder and try to play with one of her ringlets.

"Of course you are a big boy," she agreed as she leaned down and placed her head on top of mine. "But won't you tell Mother. Do you not love me enough to tell me this secret," she finished and placed her forehead on mine when I looked up at her, just as Uncle had done earlier.

Mother looked so sad that I had to tell her. I could never keep secrets from her no matter what it was when she gave me that look. "Sometimes she leaves me by myself when one of the stable boys comes to see her," I said, hoping Mother wouldn't look sad anymore.

"What is his name, Love," She asked, rubbing her nose against mine.

"She calls him Al," I replied. "Are they going to be in trouble?"

""Of course they are, but it is no one's fault but their own," She assured me.

"But I like her," I disagreed, shaking my head.

"You may like her, Darling, but she isn't family and anyone who isn't family is an enemy. You can't let people undermine you. What would they think of you when you become King?"

My mind slowly came out of the fog it had ventured into in order to see the flash. I had blacked out for hours after the first few times but as the year progressed the less time it took for me to come out of the fog.

With every 'flash' I felt like there was distance between myself and the world around me. It was almost as if a barrier was being built between it and me.

"I think that they are memories," Hermione replies with an excited smile.

"Okay," I nod. "But why are we here," I ask gesturing to the room around us.

"Because this is where we'll find it," she states plainly with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Find what," I exclaim frustrated that I knew so little about what we were going to do about the 'memories.'

"A Time Turner," She replies ignoring my outburst as she rummages through one of the boxes.

"Fine, I'll look over there," I huff as I walk over to the opposite side of the room.

Eleven hours! We had been searching this room full of useless junk for eleven hours! Hermione and I had worked in silence for the majority of the time. I decide to take a short break and look around for a sturdy looking box that would be able to hold my weight. Finding one I slowly make my way over to it. Luck never seems to be on my side because as I came upon the box I trip and fall. Part of my body falls on the sturdy looking box, which slows me down as my right arm goes through the top of the box next to it. The glass in the box breaks and imbeds itself in my arm.

Pulling my arm out of the box I call over to Hermione, "I think I found them." Gently, I begin to remove some of the glass.

Hermione slowly makes her way over to me careful not to trip as I had and kneels in front of me, swatting my hand away from the glass in my injured arm. I settle on the floor and hold my arm up for her to inspect.

"This isn't too bad," She says as she pulls out a few pieces of glass. "It could have been a lot worse, but your jacket helped protect your arm."

Using the hole my arm made in the box, Hermione reaches in and begins to look for a Time Turner that I didn't smash during my fall.

"Now we can do it," She says holding up the Time Turner.

"Now we can do what," I ask, as I begin to stand up.

"We can send you back to the memories," She states as she also stands.

"How do we even know for certain that they are memories," I question as we weave through the mass of boxes.

"We don't," She shrugs.

 **AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm not sure yet on how long I'll take to put new chapter up. Hopefully you can forgive any errors I've made.**

 **Should I stick strictly to Harry/Steffon POV or should I branch out and do some of the other characters POV?**


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I don't own anything that is from Harry Potter or Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire.

The Returning Stag

Chapter 2

Harry Potter/ Steffon Baratheon

"Nope," I say shaking my head. "Absolutely not. Why would this even be necessary," I finish looking over to Hermione incredulously.

"Did you read that book I gave you to read over while I finished this," Hermione sighs, with the frustration clear on her face, as she gestures toward the old yellowed tub that sits in the middle of her spare room. The scent coming from the tub is so awful that I'm surprised the paint has not started to peel off of the walls.

"I skimmed it," I reply with a shrug, not meeting her gaze. I fixate my eyes on the tub once more as large bubbles surface and pop in the black tar like substance. After a few minutes of silence, I glance at Hermione who has not moved her heated gaze away, so I begin to give a short summary of what had made sense in the book she had handed to me just hours previously as I look back down to the bubbling black potion that nearly fills the claw foot tub.

"It was about a man named Daeron Targaryen. He claimed that he was the third son of a man called Baelor the Blessed – who was the king of a land called Westeros - and with almost all of the descriptions that he gives of the land he was from it sound eerily similar to some of the history lessons that were in some of my memories. He wrote about how he was investigating some disturbance across the narrow see and someone sent him through some kind of portal thing and he wasn't able to find a way back to his world."

"Exactly," Hermione smiles with excitement and is nearly bouncing when she continued. "He may not have been able to find a way back, but I think I've found the one way that can send you there," She finishes.

"And that is it," I ask as I point at the yellowing tub that sits in front of us.

"No," She giggles, as if what I had suggested was ridiculous. "That is definitely not the case. Daeron was not the only one that I found that had similar stories to yours, but his was the only one that had specific places and events to certain things you told me," Hermione explains as she walks over to large book on an old wooden table. "In this book, there are several accounts of people claiming to be from other worlds, and dimensions. Sometimes these people claimed that they were a different age after coming into possession of an object that came with them through whatever portal they travelled through. Such events brought about the founding of this potion to sort out if these people were telling the truth or if they were only seeking attention."

Hermione glances up to see if I'm following any of this and I'm not, but she doesn't seem to notice because she picks up another book and begins talking again. "From what I have read it is possible that time works differently in each world or dimension. This potion will turn you into whatever age you are supposed to be. The Time Turner is meant to dissolve and turn back time for this person once they are in the potion and an object from the other world must be added to the potion to age them according to the way time works in that world, which for you was the note that was in the back of the diary that you found."

"Why do some change ages and some don't," I frown. 'Shouldn't you just start aging from whatever age you currently were?'

"If I'm honest, it is hard to tell," She shrugs and releases a sigh. "The most logical explanation, however, would be the level of development of the person's magical core. When you came through the portal, as far as we know, you were still a child and when Daeron came he was nearly thirty."

"So, when I get in this, my age can't be changed when I go through the portal because my magical core has fully developed," I ask, trying to make sense of what was going to happen.

"In theory. Yes," Hermione replies. "Now, feel free to get in at any time," She adds while giving me a light push towards the tub.

With a grimace I begin start to take off my clothes as slowly as I can in an attempt to delay getting in the horrid looking substance. Of course, I only had so many pieces of clothing to remove and each piece was gone faster than I would like. Hopefully, I can get this over with quickly. I slip my right foot first and expect the liquid to be hot because of all of the large bubbles that were coming to the surface, but somehow it is ice cold. Placing my right foot firmly on the bottom of the tub and holding on to the side with my hands I put my other foot in and bite my lip as I begin to sit down. I can practically feel my body tensing at the chill of the potion.

After settling down and trying to repress a shiver, I look up at Hermione, "How long do I have to sit in this?"

"Not long," She says, which causes me to sigh in relief. I can't wait to get out of this. What she says next wipes out all of the positive thoughts I had. "But you'll need to submerge yourself. Head and all."

"You're joking, right," I chuckle nervously, hoping with every fiber of my being that she didn't actually want me to truly submerge myself in the smelly black liquid that I'm sitting in.

"If you don't your body won't be proportional," She tells me, a humorous smile tugging at her lips. After a moment of blankly staring at her, I look down and slowly bring my arm out of the liquid.

Hermione lets out a few giggles at the sight. "I told you. Now, go under. I'll go get some towels."

All I could do is stare at my arm. Even after seeing all of the things that I had, this was one of the most bizarre things that had happened. A child sized arm had come out of the tub. I can't say how long I stare at it but it finally becomes too much and even with the horrid sent of the potions filling my senses once more, I slide down until my head is submerged.

As soon as my head is completely under, I try to resurface, but my muscles are tensed and my body is shivering uncontrollably. I try not to panic, but I know I can't hold my breath much longer.

'This is great. Just great. I'll drown in this potion and Hermione won't even know because I can't do anything to get her attention,' I think.

I don't know how long I've been under but I can't hold my breath any longer. After I release my air, I inhale the foul potion. The liquid slides in and out of my lungs like I'm breathing air. With each inhale it feels like a pressure is being placed in my head causing one of the worst headaches I have ever had. As the pressure grows, I clench my eyes closed.

So many memories flash through my head at the same time: the birth of my two youngest siblings, Father being a whoremonger, Mother's loathing of him, sword lessons with Ser Barristan and Uncle Jaime, reading books with Uncle Tyrion, Grandfather's cold calculating gaze as he stares at me from across his desk.

My mind focused on the more recent memories: My ninth name day feast and the tourney Father held in my name, lessons with Grandfather, my growing friendship with a distant cousin, Titan Lannister. The ships of Lannisport set ablaze. Gregory Hightower and Willem Waters, Kingsguardsmen that Father had sent to watch over me, fighting their way through the crowd. Gregory's broken body under a fallen piece of burning timber.

The dark cell came next. Willem was face down beside of me. Pain was the only thing I could feel. Strange things happened when they tortured us- unexplainable things. The last thing that passes through my mind is being tossed into the glowing blue pond.

As everything went black in the memory my body jerked up out of the black goopy potion.

"Harry! Harry, are you okay," I hear Hermione ask, panic lacing her tone.

"Yes… No… I'm not really sure," I stutter, while trying to make sense of all of the information that is running through my mind and spit out the potion that was still in my mouth. Different emotions swirl through me head after every memory and feeling of my other life was revealed.

"Let's get you out of there," Hermione says as I hear her walk away, then return to the side of the tub. Once she returned to the side of the tub I felt a towel being wiped across my face as she tried to get my face clean enough for me to be able to see once again.

"The shower is ready when you are," She says, giving me another concerned look as she goes out the door.

'At least the wench knows her place,' is my first thought and instantly feel sorry for thinking it, but there is a part of me that finds joy in being above her.

My internal war on how to treat Hermione wages through my long shower.

She is below my status in both worlds.

 _But she's my friend._

Grandfather's voice kept repeating in my head that to associate with the lower class is to lower your own class and by lowering yourself and by lowering your class you damage the family legacy and lowering the family legacy should never happen. It is the only thing that lives on.

 _She risked her life for me. Was willing to die and went through being tortured because of me._

Long after the water ran cold as ice in the shower, I push the thoughts to the back of my mind and begin to dress. As I zip up the trousers Hermione placed in here earlier I happen to glance in the mirror and a twelve year old Harry is staring back.

A knocking on the door makes me jump. "Harry, are you ready we need to hurry," Hermione calls through the door.

"Yeah," I call back. "Just give me one minute." Dragging me eyes away from the mirror I bend down to pick up the dark blue shirt that had fallen to the ground earlier.

An: Hope you liked this Chapter and I am sooooo sorry it took so long to get up, but scholl is taking up a lot of my time. Hopefully, fingers crossed, the next chapter will be up sooner than this one was. The bright side is that we'll finally be in the Game of thrones universe next chapter!


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